


White House Manor

by huntuer (tuffbeifong)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, Haunted mansion, Restaurant!AU, bartender!jo, waitress!anna
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 21:03:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1563962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuffbeifong/pseuds/huntuer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For as long as Jo can remember, there've been whispers around town that White House Manor was haunted. She never put any stock in it: no two tales were ever the same, nobody had a story that added up. She'd worked there for years with no solid evidence to make her truly believe that something was there.<br/>Until Anna Milton arrives. The new restaurant manager was in the building for all of 5 hours before things started falling to shit, and Jo found herself caught up in helping her new friend fight off something that she didn't even think existed a week before.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  
Jo started her shift the way she always did. She cranked up the bar radio, polished and shelved the glasses, restocked the booze. She could hear the servers coming in through the back door just down the hall, mostly on time, some characteristically late.

  
Now that it was October, the sun was setting earlier. It wasn’t five yet, but even so the sun was low in the sky, hovering behind the tops of the trees and sending golden streams of light through the stained glass windows of the West side walls. This was Jo’s favorite time of day, especially in the fall. With the window cracked she could hear the wind rustling in the leaves, and with that and the beautiful sunlight dancing across the old wooden walls and shelves, she could enjoy the last few minutes of peace before the restaurant opened.

  
Despite it’s awkward layout and limited seating, on a weekend night like this one the restaurant would be horribly full. White House Manor, for all its quirks, was an extremely popular restaurant for the town’s wealthier residents. Situated in a mansion more than a century old, it sat outside the edge of town in a windy field abutting an old, overgrown forest.

  
Jo would never quite understand why the restaurant was as popular as it was: in addition to its undeniably creepy location, there were local rumors of hauntings. Around town you’d never hear anything all that specific or terrifying: just vague warnings and assertions that there was something there. Jo had laughed on more than one occasion listening to servers tell the story of the mansion’s supposed murder; the different versions the employees would tell were unrecognizable from each other. Sometimes it was a wealthy banker shot at point blank range by the mob. Other times it was a beautiful young woman, murdered with a knife by a scorned lover. There were as many different tales as there were servers, and then some.

  
Once, when some of the servers had stayed in the bar to party on the house after a particularly gruesome evening, the owner had told a truly chilling story about a young girl hanging herself at the top of the grand staircase.

If asked by a customer that sounded skeptical, Jo liked to lean forward on the counter, her voice low, and tell them it was just little things some of the servers liked to tell their tables. Those were the people that liked the feeling that they were let in on the truth, that they were part of the real Manor crowd, that couldn’t be fooled by the silly ghost stories.

  
But sometimes, when she got talking with a customer she took a genuine liking to, Jo would be honest. She didn’t believe in ghosts, but working here challenged that occasionally. Candles would be lit that shouldn’t be. Lights would turn on after they’d been unplugged for the night. Doors would lock or jam for no reason, weird sounds would come from the third floor.

  
Then there were the creepier things. The things Jo wouldn’t tell anybody, because she’d rather forget them. The beautiful, melodic singing she’d heard in the basement while she was putting in a liquor order: she’d come out, laughing, to see which waitress thought they were alone. But no one else was there, the radio was set to the usual chamber music, and Jo had felt suddenly cold, alone and afraid.

  
She shook those feelings away, not wanted them to join her in the beginning of her shift. She was only thinking about these things because the new restaurant manager was starting tonight. Every time someone new was hired in, the staff would direct their ghost questions to Jo. Whether because she’d initially deny the idea of it, or because they liked her telling of it better, she didn’t know. But she did know that most nights a new employee started on the wait staff, the shift ended with a line of servers at the bar, all leaning over the counter to hear the way Jo told the stories she’d seen or heard. At the end she’d always laugh, clap them on the shoulder, and tell them it was all make-believe: use it to sell an experience or forget it. Doesn’t matter either way. But she got the feeling that she wasn’t the only one that tended to find themselves believing it, when they were alone in one of the empty halls of the mansion, or when they saw something flicker out the corner of their eye.

  
She shrugged it off as she finished stuffing the blue cheese olives. _I’ve worked here too long_ , she thought wryly.  
Jo had just finished washing her hands when she heard a soft knock at the doorway to the bar. Looking up, she saw a woman with the brightest red hair she’d ever seen. The redhead smiled shyly.

  
“I’m sorry, are you Jo Harvelle? It’s my first night.”

  
“Yeah, yeah!” Jo stammered out, embarrassed by her stunned silence. _How does hair even get that red?_

  
She hurried out from behind the bar and extended her hand. “I’m Jo Harvelle, bartender and...I guess head of wait staff?”

  
“I’m Anna Milton, the new restaurant manager. I’m so sorry I’m late, I had a little trouble finding the building…”

  
Jo laughed. “Wasn’t expecting something quite so middle-of-nowhere, huh?”

  
Anna gave that shy smile again. “Yeah, it’s pretty far out from town. Do you get a lot of business here?”

  
“Oddly, yeah.” Jo led the other girl out of the bar, towards the main entrance. “This is the host stand, and the reservation book. There are phones here, at my bar, and at all the waiters stations. Let’s look at tonight…”

  
As Jo led Anna through her tour of the restaurant, she couldn’t help but notice how attentive and focused Anna’s eyes were as she looked at something, how nice her mouth was...she shook her head, trying to stay on the task at hand.

  
“What’s up there?” Jo turned to see Anna peering up through one of the second floor’s back staircases.

  
“That’s the third floor. We don’t go up there, it’s not totally stable. The owner’s been saying he’s going to get it looked at for years, but he probably never will.”

  
“Is it safe to run a restaurant underneath it?” Anna asked, frowning.

  
“Yeah, I think it’s just that there are some loose floorboards and the like. We just stick to the first two floors.”

  
Anna nodded, and followed Jo back down the grand staircase into the main entryway. “It’s such a beautiful building.”

  
“Yeah, it was built at the turn of the twentieth century by this entrepreneur of evaporated milk. He built it when he married his wife, and designed it all around the staircase. He wanted to see his daughter walk down it on her wedding day.”

  
“Did he?” Anna asked, looking thoughtfully at the stairwell.

  
“I don’t know,” Jo said honestly. “I don’t even know for sure if that’s true, but it’s the only consistent part of the house’s story that I ever hear.”

  
“What are the other stories?” Anna asked, leaning forward, clearly intrigued.

  
Jo smirked. “Meet me in the bar after we close and I’ll tell you over a couple of drinks.” She winked as she twirled around and headed back into the hall towards the bar, but if she’d waited a moment she would’ve seen Anna’s mouth curl into an equally cocky smile.


	2. Chapter 2

 

Anna watched Jo saunter back towards the bar, and she couldn't help but smile. There was something about the bartender that she immediately liked, and it wasn't just her looks.

Although that might be part of it.

Anna took a moment to look around: Jo had showed her around, but she hadn't had a real chance to take in the sheer beauty and history of the place. The front entrance was a pair of enormous oak double doors leading into a stained glass foyer with coat racks and a chalkboard on which one of the servers, Charlie, was writing that night's special.

The foyer's arched entranceway led into the hall-like atrium where Anna stood at the host's stand: the walls were done in mahogany panels, some inlaid with bookshelves. There were some ancient looking armchairs at the edges of the room, making it look more like a hotel lobby than a restaurant. And in the middle of the room was the loveliest grand staircase Anna had ever seen, complete with winding banisters and rich, red carpeting.

She went back up the stairs, and on the landing stopped to admire the window: at least 15 feet wide and half as tall, it had borders of stained glass that depicted winding vines and flowers. It looked out over the forest behind the mansion, the sinking sun illuminating the tops of the trees.

She followed the bend of the stairs around to the second floor, where other servers were setting up: moving around in a flurry of tablecloths and glasses, laughing and talking to each other from across the expansive room that stretched across the front face of the building.

“You must be the new restaurant manager, huh?” she turned to see a brunette woman leaning on a column near the entrance to one of the private dining rooms. “We heard you’d be starting tonight. Looks like Jo hired you, she sure has a type.”

“Meg, are you bothering her already? Why don’t you go help somebody and leave her alone. I’m Charlie, it’s nice to meet you.”

Anna smiled, glad she was saved from coming up with an answer for Meg. “I’m Anna, she’s right, I’m the new restaurant manager. Although, Jo didn’t hire me.”

“She’s just messing with you, don’t worry about it. And she’s not as much of an asshole as she seems.” Charlie yelled the last part, and they heard an answering snort from one of the next rooms. Anna couldn’t help but smile at the rapport these people seemed to have with each other, although she was still curious Meg’s comment about Jo’s type--maybe because she hoped a little bit that it was true.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to the other staff,” Charlie said, taking her hand and pulling her over to where some other servers were setting tables. “This is Sarah, and Jess. They’ve been here for...how long?”

“I’ve been here 3 years, and I got Jess the job a year ago.”

“They’re best friends,” explained Charlie, before pulling Anna into the next dining room.

“How big is this place?” Anna asked, looking around in bewilderment. They were in another dining room she hadn’t seen on her tour with Jo.

“Oh, you get used to it. We use a lot of these for private parties and things, they all have names. We’ll have Sarah draw you a map, she’s really good at it. This is the purple room.”

Charlie led her through a few more parts of the restaurant, introducing her to some other servers; “This is Kevin, he goes to the university in town. And Adam is our busser, he’s in high school.” They went back to the first floor and passed the door to the bar: Anna peered in and was met with a cocky smile from Jo, who was leaning on the bar. She blushed and turned around quickly, following Charlie into the kitchen.

The kitchen was a complete deviation from the rest of the building. Where there had once been historic wood paneling and soft lighting, she was now met with bright, fluorescent light reflected off white walls. Walking into the kitchen, she could feel the temperature go up a good ten degrees, and peering behind the stainless steel shelves and ticket lines, she could see two men shuffling around, setting up for the evening.

“This is Ash, and Benny. They’re the two main cooks, if you need something, they’re the ones to ask.”

Benny smiled and nodded at her, while Ash leaned over onto the cutting board, sizing her up. “Nice to meet’ya, call me Ash.”

“He’s smarter than he looks, thank god.” Charlie said, grinning. Turning to Ash, she added, “We still on for tomorrow?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said, his voice a distinct southern drawl and he turned back to one of the stoves. As they walked back out into the lobby, Anna couldn’t help but ask; “So then, are you and Ash together?”

In reply, she got a loud snort. “Hell no. I’m gay. Ash and I just share an...affinity for technology.”

“Oh,” Anna said, feeling a little dumb.

“Ash and Jo have worked here longer than anyone, they grew up around here. Jo’s mom runs a bar a few towns over, the Roadhouse. Jo worked there until about...seven years ago, I think. Her mom was a little overbearing, so she got the job out here where the distance makes it a little easier. She and Ash were childhood friends.”

“Okay,” Anna said, scrambling to put it all together.

“Don’t worry about it, you’ll catch up quick. Not a lot happens around here without everyone knowing about it. We’re a big, dysfunctional family. Let’s go down in the basement and I’ll help you find a uniform before we open.”

“There’s a basement too? This place is like a labyrinth.”

Charlie laughed. “You’ll get used to that, too.” Anna smiled, hoping she was right.

 

* * *

 

“Alright, tell me about your first night,” Jo said as Anna sat down on one of her bar stools, looking exhausted.

“I didn’t believe you when you said it would be busy. Or I didn’t understand your definition of busy. Or both."

Jo laughed. “Yeah, sometimes you just have to learn by experience. What do you want to drink?”

“A beer would be fantastic,” Anna replied, her expression grateful.

“Sounds good. Let me know if you want something a little stronger.” Jo turned and saw Benny through the hallway, near the kitchen door. “Hey, what’s for dinner?” she shouted.

“What do you think?” he asked, chuckling softly as Jo rolled her eyes.

“Well, I hope you like grilled chicken, because those assholes are too lazy to make anything better. Wait till Benny is in a good mood, sometimes he makes us this gumbo, it’s to die for.”

“I’m just glad we get dinner, the place I used to work for didn’t do that.”

Jo looked surprised. “What, they expect you to work all evening and then leave without eating?”

Anna laughed wryly. “They didn’t really care. My brothers can be...well, cheap is one way to put it.”

“You used to work for your family?” Jo asked, intrigued.

“Yeah, my parents used to run a restaurant. When they died, my brothers took it over, and I worked there until a few months ago.”

“Why’d you leave?” Jo asked, unable to keep from prying. There was something so sad about the look on Anna’s face at the mention of her family, and Jo couldn’t help but want the other girl to let her in.

“They weren’t as good of people as I wanted them to be,” Anna said, carefully.

Jo didn’t know how to respond, or if she even should, so she worked on wiping down the counters while Anna worked on her beer. Their silence was interrupted by the clattering of plates, as Ash gave them their dinners.

“Looks delightful. You know how I love the variety you guys provide with your day-to-day menu, it’s truly a test of your culinary abilities.” Jo’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, but she was already cutting into the chicken breast and taking a bite of the caesar salad she’d been given.

“Always happy to oblige,” the cook replied, clearly unfazed as he took a seat at the bar. He was followed by the rest of the staff, everyone taking seats at barstools or at the small tables inside the bar. Jo handed out bottles of beer, and gave glasses of whiskey to Ash and Benny.

“So, how was your first night?” asked Sarah, as she sat down next to Anna, taking her beer from Jo.

“It was…educational,” Anna replied, thoughtfully. She felt bombarded by all the information: not only the operations of the restaurant, but also the employees and the building’s history. “I’ve been told so many different things that I’m afraid in the morning I won’t remember any of it.”

“Don’t worry, we don’t expect you to. There’s a ton to get the hang of here, we’ll help you out,” said Charlie, her mouth full of salad.

“She means Jo will help you out,” said Meg scathingly. Charlie shot her a dirty look, but Meg didn’t bother to look up.

“There really was a lot dumped on you tonight, don’t hesitate to ask me anything tomorrow or later,” Jo said earnestly, ignoring the other servers.

It wasn’t long before some of the staff started to trickle out of the bar, putting their dishes away and grabbing their coats to leave.

Jo stayed behind the bar, polishing glasses and rearranging bottles, and one by own the servers stopped by to drop off their paperwork for the night before heading out the back door.

“You can head out if you want, I know it must’ve been a long night for you, we can go over the paperwork stuff tomorrow.”

“No, that’s ok. I should probably try and learn something I can remember before I leave.”

Jo smiled and pulled out two glasses and a bottle. “Well, I’m going to go ahead and say we deserve a couple of drinks.”

“Cheers to that,” Anna replied, unable to hide her smile as she took the glass. “Doesn’t the owner disapprove of the staff drinking all the alcohol, though?”

“Nah, Bobby doesn’t care. He only comes in here once in a blue moon anyways: he inherited the place from an aunt a while back and never really wanted it, so as long as it’s not going bankrupt he doesn’t really care what goes on here. That’s why he hired you.”

“With standards that high, I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep up.”

Jo laughed, and the sound made Anna smile.

“There we go, I thought you might turn out to be pretty funny. Now, the first thing you do is…”

Over the course of all the night’s receipts and credit card slips, as well as a couple more glasses of whiskey, the two girls found themselves growing giggly, and sitting much closer together. By the time the paperwork was finished, they were sitting on top of the bar counter, legs crossed and facing one another, and Anna was practically begging to hear the ghost story.

“Would you really let me be the only one here who doesn’t know?” Anna said, and her quiet, flat tone coupled with sorrowful eyes made Jo cry with laughter.

“You’re right, how could I do this to you after everything we’ve been through?” Jo replied, wiping tears away from under her eyes and holding the other girls knee for support as she doubled over onto her own lap in laughter.

“It’s a betrayal, is what it is,” Anna said, in the same voice. Her only concession to how hilarious she found it all was a half smile that Jo was laughing too hard to even see.

“Alright, alright, stop it and I’ll tell you. But I don’t know if it’s even real. It’s been so long I can’t even remember whether or not there are parts I made up to fill in the gaps.

“Supposedly, this house was built by this man, Franklin Walters. He was, like, a pioneer of evaporated milk or something. Whatever it was, he had a ton of money. So he bought this plot of land on the edge of town—back then the church was still here, just up the road, now it’s just the graveyard. Well, it was the 1910s, maybe the 1920s and he built this whole house when he got married to his wife, Ethel.

“Walter and Ethel had three daughters. Maisie, Evelyn, and Mary. They were all raised in this house. They’d throw huge parties, and have over the other “society” people for dinner and things like that, really Downton Abbey.”

Jo paused in her story to cock an eyebrow at Anna and smirk: the other girl, enraptured by the story, had leaned in closer and closer, and her face was now only about a foot away from Jo’s. Anna leaned back quickly with a blush, and Jo reached out to steady her.

“Whoa! Careful there, drunkie,” Jo said, laughing. “You following so far?” Anna nodded, and Jo continued.

“Well, one night, after one of their dinner parties, the middle daughter, Evelyn was missing. Nobody thought all that much of it, because she’d excused herself for a headache or something, and they all presumed she’d gone to bed. So when the guests were leaving—the whole party on their way to the door, since Franklin and Ethel were walking them out—they found her, at the top of the grand staircase, in a pool of blood. A letter opener sticking out of her chest. She’d been stabbed in the heart.”

Anna had gasped, her hands jumping to her mouth. She turned toward the bar door, looking in the direction of the grand staircase, her expression a mixture of horror and curiosity. “Who did it? Why?”

“You want me to tell this story or not?” Anna gave her a peevish look, and Jo smirked again before continuing. “Well, they obviously called the cops, who came and interrogated all the guests, but by the time morning came they had nothing, and they let everyone go. They never caught the culprit.

“The Walterses didn’t live here afterwards, they said that they couldn’t after what happened. They moved upstate, and the house was vacant for a couple of decades. Then, in the 1960s, it was converted into a hotel and restaurant. The third floor was rooms, the first two looked more or less like they do now, they served as the restaurant.

“That only lasted 10 or 12 years: at first people thought it was fun, staying in a “haunted” house. But as time went on, things got weirder and weirder. People would see things in the corner of their eye, lights would flicker or turn on and off when they weren’t supposed to. Finally, there was a fire in one of the dining rooms in the middle of the night, and they had to shut the whole place down. The fire department said it had been caused by a candle left burning on one of the tables, but the staff said they hadn’t left any candles burning. No one ever found out exactly how it happened.”

Jo paused again, and looked at Anna with a strange expression on her face. Then she climbed down off the counter and filled a couple of glasses of water. Handing one to Anna, she continued,

“After that it was vacant for another fifteen years, till Anita Singer bought it. She didn’t have the money at the startup to do anything with the third floor, so they’ve just left it, but it’s been this restaurant ever since. When she died, it went to her nephew, Bobby. And here we are.”

Anna was quiet for a minute, drinking her water. Finally, she said, “Is it real?”

“I have no idea. I know Franklin Walters was the name of the man that built it, I’ve never seen proof of any other part of the story.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” Anna frowned, looking around at the old shelves and curtains lining the walls of the bar. “I mean, is it haunted?”

Jo snorted, and Anna frowned even deeper. “You’ve been here long enough to know if there’s any chance. Have you ever seen anything? Heard or felt anything?”

“Are you saying you believe in ghosts? Just when I was starting to think you were pretty smart…” Jo said it lightly, teasingly, but she didn’t meet Anna’s eyes.

“I don’t pretend to know what’s real and what isn’t. I know what I know, and I believe what the people I trust believe.”

“So you trust me?” This time, Jo looked directly in Anna’s eyes.

“I think so. Do you think there’s a chance this house is haunted?”

Jo sighed, and leaned back against the counter.

“Yeah, there’ve been times when I’ve thought so. Just little things, the sort of things I’ve heard from the stories. Things will be moved that couldn’t possibly be moved. Lights will be on that I’ve unplugged. I’ll think I hear someone in the hall, and I’ll look and find that I’m the only one here. And the scariest is when there’s a candle burning that I know I didn’t light, that no one would’ve had a reason to light.”

Jo gave an involuntary shiver, and Anna slid down off the counter, laying a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—“

“No, don’t worry about it. I’m not afraid of anything I can’t see with my own eyes.” Jo’s eyes matched the bravery in her voice, so Anna smiled back at her.

“We should get out of here, it’s—oh god, it’s 2:30am. You ok to drive?”

“Yeah,” Anna said, dropping her hand from Jo’s arm—a little reluctantly.

The two girls put away their glasses and put up the chairs, then grabbed their coats and left, locking the back door behind them. As Anna walked towards her car, she saw Jo pulling on a helmet and climbing onto a gleaming, turquoise motorcycle. She gulped—that was hot.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Anna!” Jo called, waving before taking off around the building in a roar of engine.

Anna turned the key, her own vehicle chugging sadly to life. And as she rounded the building, putting it behind her, she saw through one of the front windows that there was a single light on in one of the second floor dining rooms. One of the rooms that she and Jo had checked together before leaving, one of the lamps that they had left unplugged.

She shivered, and when she looked back, the light was gone. But she didn’t feel any better.


	3. Chapter 3

“No, no, stop!” Jo said, laughing, her hands closing around Anna’s before taking the cocktail shaker, and showing her how to put the lid on and lock it.

It had been almost two weeks since Anna had started, and she wanted to learn to do everything. If Jo were being honest, the girl exhausted her. She’d started with the basics: answered phones and taking reservations, making supply orders based on what Benny told her was needed in the kitchen. But within days she was taking orders, learning the recipes to the signature steak marinade and french onion soup, and Jo had even found her perched on a ladder in front of the house to repair some broken molding on one of the columns.

Today, she wanted to learn to bartend. Jo showed her exactly how high to fill a wine glass, and how to change the beer taps: now they were making special cocktails, and Anna was trying to throw the ingredients for a Blue Lagoon all over Jo and her entire bar.

As Jo showed her how to use the shaker, Anna watched carefully: that was something Jo liked about Anna. She had those big, sparkly eyes, and when she looked at something, when she looked at Jo, there was no hesitation—no distance. She looked right at her. She paid so much attention to every detail of everything around her, she was always so wholly engaged.

“Okay, okay, let me try!” Anna said, taking the cocktail back and shaking it, this time mimicking Jo’s movements.

“Yeah, that’s it. Now stop before it’s a foamy mess, and pour it in this martini glass so you can serve it.”

Anna poured the bright blue liquid into the glass, and Jo leaned over to stick in a straw. Plugging the other end with her finger, she offered it to Anna. “Let’s see how you did.”

Anna’s lips closed around the straw, and as she tasted the drink she made a face. “Maybe you should make it. I think I went heavy on…which liquor tastes like motor oil?”

Jo took a swig out of the glass, and made a face of her own, grabbing her mug of coffee as a chaser. “Yeah, that’s not what it’s supposed to taste like. I’ll make you another one.”

Anna jumped up to sit on the bar’s counter as Jo made the replacement martini. She looked so much more comfortable, more confident than she had just two weeks ago. Jo understood that: this place was intimidating at first, but it didn’t take long to feel a part of the family. There was a reason she’d been here for so long. It was home.

“Here, go serve this before your table sends a search party.” Anna smiled and took the glass, hurrying out of the bar. Jo sighed and slumped forwards onto the bar, her face on the counter.

“Somebody’s sure got it bad.” Jo didn’t have to look up to recognize that it was Charlie who’d entered the bar. “Can I get an Oberon? Pint.”

Jo didn’t bother acknowledging Charlie’s first statement, but grabbed a pint glass and pulled the tap.

“So, have you two…” Charlie waggled her eyebrows, her mouth curling up into a grin.

“Charlie, I’ve known her for about a week!” Jo said, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, I know. My question still stands.”

Jo pushed the beer across the counter. “Charlie, nothing has happened. And nothing probably will happen. I mean, she’s probably straight.”

“Yeah, well that’s what I said when I met you. And it was only a few weeks till I was eating my words. As well as—“

“Do you need a drink?” Jo practically shouted over Charlie as Sarah came into the bar.

“Ah, no, I was just gonna say that we’re still super slow, maybe one of the servers should go home.” Sarah said slowly, looking between Charlie and Jo with confusion. “Are you two fighting or something? I thought we were all past that.”

Jo flushed. “No, we’re not fighting. We’re fine.”

She couldn’t bring herself to meet Charlie’s eye—she knew Charlie had been hurt when they’d ended things. And she knew she hadn’t made that any easier.”

“Aw, cheer up, blondie. Things go on.” Charlie said, shooting her a genuine smile. Jo smiled back, relieved that things were finally returning to normal: even if that meant that Charlie was going to mercilessly tease her.

“Yeah, alright, red.” Jo said.

“I get that you two are having a moment and all, but I was serious about the sending a server home thing—and I wouldn’t argue if it were me, if you catch my drift,” Sarah said, still watching them carefully for a sign that they’d burst into shouting. Jo couldn’t blame her, as the tail end of her relationship with Charlie had been as passionate as the beginning had been, albeit in a far less pleasant way. “Explosive” had been a common descriptor.

Jo turned and looked at the clock. “Well, what the hell, are there tables still here?”

“Just Anna’s, I think they’re having one last drink before they go.”

“We’ve only got an hour left anyways, turn off the sign and close up the other dining rooms. We can close early tonight, if Bobby doesn’t like it I’ll talk to him. Nobody else is coming in tonight.”

“Yes ma’am!” Sarah said, about-facing and untying her apron as she ran off to close the upstairs dining rooms.

“Don’t call me ma’am!” Jo shouted after her, smiling. “Go tell the other servers? And Ash and Benny?” she added, directed at Charlie.

“You got it.”

“Wait a second, if you have no tables, why did you order a beer?”

Charlie was already in the doorway of the bar, and she turned to pass through backwards, winking and taking a swig from the glass. Jo laughed.

By the time the servers had closed the dining rooms and turned in their paperwork, Anna’s table was long gone and Jo had finished what little paperwork there was after such a slow night. Taking their measly tips, the servers filed out through the back, and Jo was about to follow when she remembered that she’d left her jacket in her office downstairs.

Taking the stairwell behind the bar to the basement, she went to the office: she didn’t like calling it her office, although it was. It looked about the way you’d expect a basement room in a century-old mansion to look, or maybe a little dingier. The walls were brick, the floors were cement, and the furniture was primarily pieces from the mansion’s hotel days that weren’t quite too broken to use. She avoided using the room if she could, but it was where the computers were so every once in a while she’d have to endure it.

She grabbed her coat off the back of the chair and checked that the computer was turned off, and as she was turning around to return to the hall, the lights flickered and went out.

She swore angrily, and pulled out her phone, turning on the flashlight. Pointing it towards the door, she saw it was empty: of course it was empty. All the servers had left. She was alone.

At the doorway, she fiddled with the light switch, but nothing happened. Making sure it was off, and deciding it was a problem better left to daylight, she moved toward the staircase: as she did so, her phone’s flashlight flickered and went out. She pressed the home button and shook it up and down, but to no avail.

Swearing again, she stuffed it back in her pocket. As she did so, she felt a chill: it went straight through her, from her back and into her spine and then out her front. Her bones, her teeth, her fingers all felt a gust of freezing air move through them.

“Who’s there?” Jo said, her voice shaky. Her throat was tight, and she didn’t expect an answer, but she had to say something.

Her ears strained, listening: for what, she had no idea. But she did heard something: a voice, coming from down the hall, near the wine cellar.

Jo was paralyzed with fear, and she heard the voice coming closer. It was singing, but she couldn’t make out any words, only a chilling tune in a bright, cold soprano.

Although it was pitch black, Jo trusted her familiarity with the house and lunged forward in the direction of the stairwell to the bar. Her shoulder collided with the doorway but she kept running, up the stairs and into the bar, slamming the door shut behind her and vaulting over the counter. She felt her foot crash into something, and heard some of the glasses by the sink shatter, but she didn’t stop running until she was locking the server’s entrance door behind her, her hands shaking.

She leaned against the door once it was securely locked, breathing in the warm breeze like it was the first she’d ever felt, her heart racing. A sudden metallic clank made her spin around, her eyes wild, but looking out across the parking lot, she saw nothing more menacing than Anna leaned over the open hood of her car, looking perplexed.

Jo would’ve smiled if she didn’t feel like she’d just had a heart attack. She hurried over, anxious to get away from the house, but slowed down to a saunter as she approached the other girl.

“Car trouble?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant as she struggled not to stare at Anna—she’d changed into a short, dark green skirt after they’d closed, and as she leaned over the front of her car it rode up to reveal long, porcelain white legs.

Anna jumped, not knowing Jo’d approached, and smiled weakly. “Ah, yeah. I tried to start it and it just made this sad sort of chugging sound. Which it usually does when I start it, but this time it just sort of chugged off into a whine, and then the check engine light came on.”

Jo leaned over to look at the engine: she’d learned a few things about cars from Bobby’s garage, but as she surveyed the damage she couldn’t identify any of the problems she’d learned to fix.

“I’ve got nothing. But I have a good friend who’s a mechanic, he can come and look at it in the morning.”

“Oh, no I can call to have it towed or something…”

“No, that’ll cost you a fortune. And Dean spends most of his time here anyways, I’m surprised you haven’t met him yet. He can fix it for you. For now, you want a ride home?”

Anna looked over at Jo’s bike, the turquoise paint and chrome gleaming in the fading twilight.

“What, you scared?” Jo asked playfully, grabbing Anna’s hand and pulling her towards the bike. “Think I’ll be a dangerous driver?”

Anna grinned, and Jo knew she’d won. She let go of Anna’s hand, albeit a little reluctantly, to let her close the car’s hood and grab her bag and keys. Surveying the vehicle, Jo added, “that is one hell of a car. Did you find that in a junk yard? Most beige cars are ugly, but that one…”

“Takes the cake, yeah,” Anna said, looking at it in disappointment. “I bought it from this used car lot down near Kingston. I knew it wasn’t going to last forever, but I was imagining I’d have more than a month with it.”

“Don’t worry. If it can be fixed, Dean will fix it. And if it can’t…well, he’s the best person to ask about getting a new one.”

“Thanks. Really.”

“No problem. Here’s the spare helmet,” she said, pulling it out of the storage compartment and handing it to Anna, who dutifully strapped it on. Jo swung a leg over the bike and felt Anna clamber on behind her.

“Alright, hold on tight. I’ll take it slow,” Jo said, knowing Anna was nervous from the way her hands shook as she wrapped her arms around Jo’s waist.

Jo started the bike and left the parking lot at a slow pace. As they headed out onto the road and away from the mansion, she felt Anna’s hands stop shaking, and she could feel from the way the other girl was pressed against her as she turned her head to look around. Jo sped up, slowly, careful to make sure Anna still seemed comfortable: but she didn’t need to. The other girl was laughing into the wind, and Jo panicked as she felt one of Anna’s hands leave her waist: but the other one wrapped tighter around her and she felt Anna collapse back forwards, leaning against Jo’s body as she drove. Anna’s head and mouth dangerously, distractingly close to Jo’s neck.

She shook the thought away and concentrated on driving, listening to Anna’s directions as they returned to town until they arrived at a dumpy motel.

“This is where you’re staying?” Jo asked, trying not to sound judgemental.

“I know it’s a shithole. It’s just temporary, until I find something a little better…” Anna said, brushing her hair away from her face, something Jo was beginning to recognize as a nervous gesture.

“Nah, the Shithole is a street over. It’s Meg’s favorite bar. Don’t ever go there, I speak from experience—and most of the manor staff is banned anyways.”

Anna laughed, and handed the helmet back to Jo.

“Thanks a lot for the ride. I guess I’ll see you in the morning?”

“You got it. I’ll give my friend a call and we’ll get your car sorted it.”

“Thanks, Jo.”

There was a moment of silence, in which they just stared at each other. Until Anna bit her lip, looked around awkwardly, and said “Um, goodnight then,” before turning around and hurrying up the steps to the second floor. She fiddled clumsily with her keys before slipping into her room, the door slamming shut behind her.

Jo waited to take off until she’d seen that Anna was safe inside her room, and she didn’t turn around to see the large hazel eyes peering at her between the blinds as she sped off out of the parking lot.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: multiple mentions of blood and violence. not graphic, but several

“This is one of the shittiest cars I’ve ever seen. And I work in a salvage yard.”

“Yeah, well can you fix it?” Jo asked. 

“Me?” Dean pulled his head out from under the car to shoot Jo a cocky smile. “I can fix anything. Gimme a sec, though, I think I’ll have to figure out what’s _not_ busted and work my way up from there.”

“Okay, thanks Dean,” Jo said, relieved. She hopped up onto the roof of Dean’s impala, despite knowing that he would shoo her back off. 

“Whose car is this, anyways? Can’t be just anybody if you’re gonna call me four times to get me out here this early.”

“It’s the new restaurant manager’s.” Jo tried to keep her voice casual. She avoided Dean’s gaze as he raised an eyebrow at her. 

“Oh yeah? What’s their name? Don’t think I’ve met ‘em yet.”

“Anna. She started a couple of weeks ago.”

A grin tugged at one corner of his mouth. “Anna, huh? Maybe I’ll pop in here later to meet her. Ask her where she could have possibly bought this thing.”

“Speaking of you coming in, where the hell have you been the last couple of weeks? Without your ass planted on one of the bar stools it feels like somebody moved all the furniture two inches to the left, it’s all off.”

“I don’t come here that often,” he scoffed defensively.

“Benny cooks you dinner more often than _you_ cook you dinner.”

“That is because Benny is very, very good at it.”

“Seriously, Dean, where’ve you been hiding out?”

“Sammy’s in town, and I’ve been helping him study for his bar exam.”

“Sam’s here? Why the hell hasn’t he come up here?!” she exclaimed.

“He’s studying, like I said!” Dean said, his voice muffled as he held a wrench in his mouth.

“You had better tell him to get his ass over here and say hello to me. I don’t care how hard he’s studying, he’s gotta eat sometime and it had damn well better be at my bar.”

“Well, I guess I’ll drag him up here tonight then. You can see Sam and I can see this Anna,” he said, climbing into the driver’s seat and turning the key. With a rattling clunk, the car chugged sadly to life. “We’re going to need to talk about getting her something else to drive.  Anything else.”

 

* * *

 

“Are you taller?” Jo asked incredulously, staring up at Sam. 

“I hope not,” he laughed, pulling her in for a tight hug. 

“Oh, I’ve missed you! How’s school?”

“Hard. I love it.”

Jo grinned, hopping back around behind the bar. “Alright, what do you want?”

“Whatever. I’m starving, and Benny’s never made me anything I didn’t like.” 

“Sounds good,” she said, turning around to send an order to the kitchen.

As she turned back towards the brothers, an unfamiliar figure strode into the bar, taking a seat at the far end. It was a woman, with brown hair pulled back into a tight bun. She was wearing a leather jacket and khaki pants with tall boots, and Jo had the strangest impression that she had recently fought someone. 

“Hey there, how you doing?” Jo asked brightly, sliding a menu down towards the girl. 

“Alright, yourself?”

“Fine. What can I get you to drink?”

“Jameson. Rocks.”

Jo nodded, pouring the drink. 

“Don’t think I’ve met you before, you from around here?”

The girl cocked a half smile. “Nah, I’m not from anywhere exactly. Just passing through.”

By this time, everyone in the bar was quiet, listening: until Charlie came bounding in the door from the hallway to the kitchen. “Jo, I need to leave—“

Charlie stopped short when she saw the woman. They stared at each other for a long moment in silence, before a smirk grew across the brunette’s face. “Hey there, Red.”

“Dorothy.”

“You two know each other?” Dean asked, a little incredulous.

“We sure do,” Dorothy said, her smile only growing as she stared at Charlie. “But Charlie here gave up bounty hunting, said she wanted to do something a little more respectable. I see she became a waitress, what a remarkable use of your talents!”

“At least I’m not a criminal,” Charlie said, her voice steely as she stared back at Dorothy. 

“Bounty hunters operate within the law. I catch criminals.”

“For money,” Charlie retorted. “Why are you here?”

“I didn’t know you worked here. I’m just passing through, I’ll get going.” She pulled a $10 bill out of her jacket pocket and pushed it across the bar towards Jo, before sliding off her stool and walking almost nonchalantly out the door towards the front of the building. 

For a moment, Charlie stood in the other doorway, her face contorted in confusion and uncertainty, but ultimately she ran after the mysterious woman, untying her apron as she went. 

They could hear in the bar when Charlie reached the front door: they couldn’t quite make out the words, but they turned to each other in shock. 

“A _bounty hunter_?” Sam said, his eyes wide. 

“and _Charlie_?” Dean added, leaning back on his stool to try and catch a glimpse of the entrance. 

“When she said she used to date a criminal, I sort of thought she was just bragging,” Jo mused, still trying to process the information. 

Just then, the distant shouting from the entrance was replaced with a piercing shriek from the atrium. Jo gasped, before recognizing the voice—which sent her vaulting over the bar for the second time that week, dashing into the hall. 

Anna was standing at the foot of the stairs, a tray and some broken glass at her feet. Her eyes were trained on something at the top of the stairs, and she was frozen in terror: but as Jo followed her gaze, there was nothing there.

Hearing a strange squeak, Jo looked up: and above Anna, she saw one side of the chandelier droop to the side, as the center where it was mounted to the ceiling turned, all by itself. 

Moving as fast as she could, Jo dashed out into the atrium, grabbing Anna and knocking her to the ground a few feet from the chandelier just as it crashed to the ground and they were showered in shattered glass. 

Propping herself up on her elbows, Jo looked down at Anna: the other girl’s eyes were closed, and she wasn’t moving. 

“Anna!” Jo half shouted, terrified. But Anna blinked and opened her eyes: she lifted her head to look to the top of the stairs, but let it fell back down as she gave a sigh of relief. 

Jo pushed herself up further, still leaning over Anna, and laid a hand on her side. “Anna, are you ok?”

Anna frowned, her eyes closed again, and took a moment before nodding. 

“Did you hit your head?” Jo asked carefully, resisting the urge to reach down and stroke Anna’s hair. 

“No, just…I think my arm is bleeding…”

Jo looked at her arms, and sure enough, they were both covered in small cuts from the shattered glass, as well as a few larger gashes. 

Helping her up, Jo said, “Come on, we should get you to the hospital…”

“No!” Anna exclaimed, before her expression turned embarrassed. “It’s just…I don’t have, you know, any sort of insurance. I…I’m totally cut off, I don’t have any real money…”

Jo nodded, understanding, and took Anna’s arm in her hand, examining it. 

“Ok, well it’s not that bad. I can probably bandage this up for you myself.”

“Oh, you don’t have to, I can just…”

“No way. I’m bandaging you up. Come on.” Turning to Dean, she said, “Remember how to bartend? You’re hired for the night. Call Bobby, tell him what happened?”

Dean nodded somberly, and as she led Anna towards the back door, Jo grabbed their coats and gave some quick instructions to Benny and Sarah before they left through the back door. 

“Where are we going?” Anna asked, still looking dazed. 

“My house is nearby, and I’ve got a much better first aid kit than we have here. Don’t worry, I brought my car today.” Jo tried to keep her voice level, and slow her pace: she didn't want to let on how desperate she was to get the other girl out of that house. 

After helping Anna into her car, an old crimson Grand Prix, Jo swung into the driver’s seat and peeled out of the drive to the Manor, feeling deeply unsettled—there was no doubt in her mind that Anna had seen something very real at the top of the stairs, and that whatever it was had it out for the girl. 

 

* * *

 

When they pulled into Jo’s long, dirt driveway, Anna was utterly stunned by the house. It was a beautiful, historic cottage—small but surrounded by a wild garden filled with flowering trees, with winding paths visible through the foliage. 

She followed Jo through the old, red wooden door and found herself in a cluttered foyer: the sort of clutter that excites the eye, comprised of cherished belongings rather than trash. She stared around in wonderment, trying to take it all in. Looking into the living room, she walls were entirely filled, with tapestries and prints as well as some mounted swords and other weapons. There were countless bookshelves, leaning against or mounted to the walls, filled with books on mythology and history and lore. 

“I’m sorry it’s such a mess, I’d say it’s usually not like this but I’d be lying…” Jo said, a hand to the back of her neck as her expression turned to embarrassment.

“No,” Anna said firmly, her eyes still roving around the room. “It’s lovely.”

Jo’s face flushed a bit, but Anna pretended not to notice, continuing to look around at the room. She heard Jo leave, and when she returned she pulled Anna to the couch and opened a large first aid kit. Her touch was gentle as she cleaned and bandaged the wounds—none of them appeared deep or large enough to require stitches. 

As Jo carefully worked on bandaging her up, Anna found herself taking the opportunity to stare at the other girl: her golden hair, falling around her face as she leaned forwards and cleaned Anna’s arm. Her eyes were focused, her mouth making a gentle “o” as she concentrated, her lips only barely parted. 

As Jo finished bandaging Anna’s second arm, she looked up and their eyes met. Seriously, she asked, “Are you alright?”

Anna could hear the understanding in Jo’s tone, the knowledge that the question extended past the pain in her forearms. She didn’t reply, and Jo gave a soft sigh, leaning back into the couch. 

“What was it you saw?” she asked. 

“I don’t know.”

Jo scoffed. “I saw your face. I think you don’t want to believe it, but you certainly do know.” 

Anna looked down at her lap. “Yes, I saw something. It was…a girl.”

Jo waited patiently until Anna continued. “She was…well, she looked terrified. I mean absolutely horrified, I’ve never seen a face filled with so much fear. 

“She looked right at me, right in the eyes, and then her chest just started bleeding. It all soaked through her dress, this long silver evening gown. All stained bright red. There was so, so much blood…”

Anna stopped, tears pricking in her eyes, and through her swimming vision she watched as Jo’s hand closed around hers in her lap. Her hand was warm, and Anna gave a weak smile before continuing. 

“She was bleeding, just everywhere, and her face was still so terrified, but now it was angry, too. And she lifted her arm and pointed right at me.

“That’s when I dropped the tray, and screamed. And then the next thing I knew, you were on top of me, and the chandelier was on the ground, and _I_ was the one bleeding.”

Jo nodded slowly, not taking her hand from Anna’s, which the latter was grateful for. They were silent a few moments, and Anna settled in deeper to the couch. It was soft and comfortable, and she laid her head on Jo’s shoulder. 

“Well, Anna, I think it’s safe to say that whatever is going on at the Manor has something to do with you. And I think we’re going to need to figure out how to stop it sooner rather than later.”

Anna nodded, her face still pressed into Jo’s shoulder.

 

 


End file.
